Standing Firm
by Eternalscibe41
Summary: Harry is left at the Dursleys when his brother is proclaimed Boy-Who-Lived, and runs away from the Dursleys to live on the street. Some 8 years later, Voldemort has returned to power, and Harry must stand firm against the coming tides of darkness. Hiatus!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not now nor have I ever owned Harry Potter in any shape or form. If I had, the travesty known as the Half-Blood Prince, or the book-that-shall-not-be-named that occurred after the aforementioned book would never have been given to the human race. You can blame them on JK Rowling.

Prologue

In England, there resides a hidden world. The world of magic, cunningly hid from ordinary muggles who, because of the use of magic, are forced to disregard everything they see that is out of the ordinary. In a magical village known as Godric's Hollow, there resides an ancient family known as the Potters. This family had long been regarded as one of the most powerful magical families in England, always at the forefront of every magical battle, generally on the side of the light. This tradition had been repeated in the war that was already occurring against Lord Voldemort, one of the most powerful dark lords to have ever walked the Earth. A prophecy had recently been uttered that placed in danger both of the Potter twins, as well as a boy known as Neville Longbottom, a member of the noble House of Longbottom, which was nearly as distinguished as the Potters.

This prophecy spoke of someone who would come and be the equal of Lord Voldemort, and was the only one who could defeat the aforementioned Dark Lord. Due to the fact the only three candidates were children just over a year old, it was believed that these children would need to be hidden for their own protection and then later trained to meet their destiny. As such, both families, Longbottom and Potter, had hidden themselves with the use of the Fedelius Charm which hid the knowledge of a location in the mind of a person. This meant the only people who could remember where the place both families had hidden themselves in, would be those to whom the secret had been disclosed by the person in whom the knowledge of the location had been hidden, or the "Secret keeper."

It was Samhein, or Halloween as it was now known by most, when a malevolent, tall being, undeserving of the name human, walked down the streets of the village of Godric's Hollow. As it turned out, the Potters had put their trust in the wrong person. Unbeknownst to them, Peter Pettigrew had betrayed them. As such, the Potters were unprepared when their front door was blown apart. The being entered, his fear-inspiring aura already emanating from him as he fired curses at the man who stood in his way. Growling, Lord Voldemort cast the curse that would take James Potter out of the fight. Although an above average fighter and auror, there were few alive who could stand up to Voldemort, and James Potter was not one of them. As such, Voldemort decided to leave Potter alive so that he would be able to see the destruction of the country he loved. Smiling his devilish smile, Lord Voldemort headed up the stairs to where he sensed the mother of the twins was. Lily Potter née Evans was a charms mistress and an incredible duellist, leading to Voldemort making his way into the room she was in slowly, eyes scanning the shadows for any traps she had laid. Apparently she had placed to much faith in the cowardly Peter Pettigrew who had been a spy for him for over three years as there were no traps ready to trip him up.

In front of him was the closed door of the nursery in which his two targets and their protector hid. Voldemort snarled and sent the door flying back, only for it to be sent back at him. With a gesture of his wand the door disappeared to reveal a blue spell flying at him. Recognising the bone breaker, Voldemort side-stepped before sending spells back in kind, before entering. He was at an advantage, he had no limit to the spells he could use, whereas the redhead in front of him would not "lower" herself to use the dark arts, as well as having to stay in front of her progeny. Spells flew between the two, cunningly blocked by the other with shields or hastily conjured objects. Finally, Voldemort penetrated the witches defences by summoning a book shelf into the back of her head, knocking her out. Deciding to deal with the pest later, Voldemort turned to the babies on the bed. One lay prostrate on the bed, a wet spot beneath him. It had red hair and hazel eyes, and appeared to grasp the gravity of the situation, that or Voldemort's aura was getting to it. The other sat in front of it's twin, black hair lay flat on his head as it's glowing emerald eyes glared at him. Voldemort was slightly taken aback by the sheer hatred in the babies eyes, apparently it recognised him as a threat to his family, and didn't like it.

For once, Voldemort felt a small glimmer of fear, this being was no more than an infant and yet shrugged his aura aside and had the audacity to glare at him. Even if this baby was weak magically, and Voldemort could feel it was anything but, it would be a thorn in his side with the intelligence Voldemort could clearly see in his eyes. Deciding this one was the greater threat, Voldemort uttered the most feared words of all time, "Avada Kedavra!" The last thing he saw was the widening of his babies eyes, before his own spell was reflected on him. Absentmindedly, Voldemort fled bodiless as his body was destroyed by his own spell. One thing that he had noticed was that the babies eye colour was the same as the colour of a killing curse. Voldemort fled, unaware that his defeater would not be heralded for his victory, but would instead grow up in the shadow of his older brother, the boy-who-lived.

POV CHANGE

Albus Brian Wilfred Percival Dumbledore, widely regarded as the only one Lord Voldemort feared, was sprinting down Godric's Hollow, cursing the fact he couldn't apparate from Hogwarts otherwise he would have been here moments ago. As he ran through the gate of the Potter residence, he spotted flashes of light through the nursery window, smiling he realised Lily was still fighting. Unfortunately, just for he entered the house, the lights stopped. Wearily, he walked through the house, sighing in relief when he saw his friend James was still alive, before heading upstairs were he heard the Killing Curse uttered. He entered the nursery just in time to see a spirit flee the room, he strode over to the bed were Nathan Potter was looking up at him. The other twin, Harry, was lying on the bed nearby, sleeping peacefully. Closing his eyes, Albus stretched out his senses to feel the aura of the two children beneath him. Nathan's was vibrant and lively, although felt dark, whereas Harry's was very weak and felt just as dark. Coming to a conclusion that Tom Riddle had been banished, but was still alive, based on the ashes in the corner and what Dumbledore recognised as Tom's wand, he thought that the killing curse had been reflected by one of the twins. Based on the difference in energy and size of the aura's, he thought it more likely to be Nathan, the more powerful one as such a feat would need unprecedented amounts of power. He raised Nathan into the air and proclaimed him the Boy-who-lived. Sighing, he turned to Lily and awoke her with an enervate, unaware he had just made a massive mistake, unaware of the percussions of his actions as he explained to the redhead what he thought had happened.

SCENE CHANGE

Harry Potter, aged two, sat on the stairs of the house in which he lived. He had been sent there to wait for his father to come home from work whenever his brother, Nathan, had wanted the toy he was playing with, and had yelled that Harry had stolen the toy from him, despite Harry's objections to the claim. He may have young, but he knew what would occur when his father came back, a firm spanking followed by a grounding and withholding of food. He may have been young, but he realised that although his brothers word would be taken as gospel, he would be called a liar.

SCENE CHANGE

Harry Potter, aged three, stood at the door of the dining room. He and Nathan had been called for dinner, but he had been down slightly late after Nathan had pushed him into a door. Now, Nathan, his newly born younger sister, Sarah and his parents sat at the dining room table, eating dinner and laughing without him, as though he wasn't part of the family. He may have been young, but he realised they didn't consider him to be a part of the family.

SCENE CHANGE

Harry Potter, aged four, was sitting in the Potter Family library. His parents had begun to teach Nathan how to read and do basic numeracy, they had ignored him. And so he sat in the library, trying to teach himself to read and write, as well as trying to pick up as much magic as he could from the books he practised his growing literacy abilities on. He may have been young, but he realised that he would be given nothing, and would need to earn everything.

SCENE CHANGE

Harry Potter, aged 5, sat in the backseat of the car heading towards Little Whinging, Surrey. His parents had announced that Nathan would be home schooled, but that Harry would go to school with his cousin and for this reason, he was being left with his aunt and uncle for the year. He may have been young but he realised that he was being abandoned by his family.

SCENE CHANGE

Harry Potter, aged 6, was blowing out the birthday candles of the cake he had drawn in the dust of his cupboard under the stairs. His parents were supposed to come collect him on the last day of the school year, and despite Harry's hope that it would be a tearful reunion with his parents telling him they loved him, he had been left behind and forced to walk to his aunt and uncle's house where he was promptly thrown into the cupboard. He may have been young but he realised he had been abandoned to a childhood of slavery to his aunt and uncle.

SCENE CHANGE

Harry Potter, aged 7, was walking away from school. He was in Primary 3 now, and he had realised his parents weren't coming back to get him. He had decided to walk away from his life to make his own way on the streets, armed with nothing more than what little he had looted from his aunt and uncle's house, and what little magic he had learnt from books at his parents home when he had live there. He may have been young, but he realised that he was the only one he could depend upon in this world.

SCENE CHANGE

Harry Potter, aged 11, was picking a man off the street. He had spent four years on the streets, adapting and learning to survive on the streets. He had realised his magic acted up when he was emotional and had managed to gain control over his magic. He had some close calls over the years, but was still alive, if somewhat more scarred than he used to be, and had managed to gain some possessions for himself, and was now helping an old man who had fallen, and whom no-one else had helped up. He may have been young, but he realised that even if no one else would do the right thing, he would. He had no wish to be like his parents. He had no idea what repercussions would come from his oath.

**This is just a muse that won't leave me, been wanting to write it for quite some time. I know I probably shouldn't start writing another story while I already have 4 works in progress, plus school, extracurricular activities and a part time job. Please review.**


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not now nor have I ever owned Harry Potter in any shape or form. If I had, the travesty known as the Half-Blood Prince, or the book-that-shall-not-be-named that occurred after the aforementioned book would never have been given to the human race. You can blame them on JK Rowling.

Chapter 2

"On to the next topic of the meeting, new recruits." Dumbledore looked around the room in the safe house, generously volunteered by Lily and James Potter. After the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and Nathan's horrendous showing which culminated in being port keyed away, Voldemort had managed to regain his body through a dark ritual. Fortunately, Nathan had managed to return and warn Dumbledore as well as convince Minister Fudge that Voldemort had returned. As Dumbledore had flicked through Nathan's recollection of the event, he had sighed. From what he had seen, if that prophecy did apply to Nathan, and all evidence pointed to that, then the Wizarding World was screwed, despite all the training Nathan had received. In hindsight, that training had done little to improve Nathan's ability, he had simply increased Nathan's already over inflated ego. Dumbledore sighed, his parents had changed as well, they were very arrogant now and could not be advised anymore. Sarah, on the other hand, was a sweet girl, very pleasant to be with and easy to get along with. She had been treated more like Nathan than Harry, as a girl she was the apple of her mothers eye. Now, more than ever, Dumbledore cursed the fact that the Potters had sent away one of the possible candidates for the prophecy.

Surprising, Mundungus Fletcher straightened up and spoke. Normally, he was in a sort of comatose state and contributed little, but now he appeared to be able to give something back to the group that provided him with alibi's during some of his more illegitimate work.

"Actually, Dumbledore. I have a friend who might join, he detests You-Know-Who 'cos he killed his entire family."

Here, Lily harrumphed, "I'm not having some dirty, no good, rotten criminal running in my house. He probably steal everything bolted down."

Fletcher responded with uncharacteristic venom, "This guy isn't a criminal, he sometimes toes the line of legality, but he rarely crosses it and then only when he has to, unless the law is idiotic. He has morals, and he saved my life numerous times without asking for anything in return. This "dirty criminal" lives in a rundown flat with broken furniture, but what he has, he has earned, unlike some." he finished with a pointed glare at Lily and James Potter, who were unemployed and lived off James' family fortune and Nathan's name.

As Lily set herself up to begin a rant, Dumbledore intervened, "Does this friend of your's have a name?"

"Harry Broadmore." came the terse reply.

"That's not a name I recognise." replied a frowning Dumbledore.

"Not everyone can afford to go to Hogwarts so you don't know everyone, but his family is relatively old." responded Fletcher.

"Bring him along to our next meeting, if he satisfies our criteria, he shall be accepted." Fletcher nodded in response, still angry at the insult to his friend.

SCENE CHANGE

In a ramshackle apartment in one of seedier areas of Wizarding Britain, there slept a short man in a dirty, rundown bed. Surrounding him where a number of other pieces of furniture, a desk and a chair, both obviously second hand and in poor condition, but with papers scattered around them. There was also a small bookcase with a number of old, tatty, dog-eared books. A vibrating noise jerked the man from his slumber, who reached over the table beside his bed and grabbed his wand, deactivating the alarm charm he had placed on it. The wand was... well used would be the most optimistic way to describe it. He had gotten it from a second hand wand shop in Knockturn Alley for a few sickles but he'd never regretted it. He'd bought it when he entered the wizarding world at the age of 11. He still thought back to the day he made the oath in which he swore to always do the right thing. He'd realised he wouldn't survive any longer on the streets, luck and his sporadic control over his magic keeping him alive, and so he had moved onto the wizarding world. He'd quickly been put back on the streets, this time in Knockturn Alley. He'd gained a small job running errands for some of the people there, and had bought his wand with his wages. 4 years later, and he was accounted a devilishly brilliant fighter. His unorthodox approach to fighting, his lack of training and the varying number of books he'd managed to scan through had lead to him knowing a wide variety of spells and he apparently had a great deal of magical skill to back it up. He went more for getting the job done, than flash but that wasn't to say that he didn't know some impressive spells, not least the Patronus Charm, something he'd remembered reading in the Potter library as a defence against Dementors. After his reaction to a dementor when a friend of his had been on trial and he'd come to watch, he thought it was best he learn a defence fast. Harry smiled as he recalled his first real job as an errand boy to some of the information mongers, now he was an information monger, and a fairly successful one at that.

Shaking both the nostalgia and the weariness of his body away, Harry sluggishly got off his bed. He was maybe 5 foot 5 at most, and unlikely to grow more than a few inches taller due to his lack of food in his developing years. He was also relatively slim, and so by rights, should have been fairly unintimidating, but he was. The numerous scars lining his face and the rest of his body, as well as his magical presence, made him a ferocious visage, if anything his lack of height helped him. He was a smaller target. That thought caused Harry to smile as he cast a scourgify on himself and his clothes. A leather jacket, with a black t-shirt and a pair of muggle jeans, was pretty standard fare among muggles, although his muggle attire made him the subject of some odd looks from other wizards, but Harry was immensely proud of it. He still remembered buying them, some of the first clothes he had ever bought and they retained significant value for him because of that.

Harry strode out the door, and disapparated past his wards, fairly basic wards, but with a lot of power behind them. The wards might only delay someone a few moments, but that would be all Harry needed to gather his stuff and get out. He appeared in Knockturn Alley, and walked into one of the pubs nearby. He looked around, before spotting his target sitting in the corner with a chessboard sitting in front of him. The muggle game was common among people of Harry's profession, most snitches sold different information to different people and so needed a way to differentiate between people so as not to give vital information away to different people. The type of opening used by someone who sat down, and the exact moves they made to respond to the other's opening would allow the snitch to know who they were dealing with.

Harry sat down, nodded to the man in front of him who wore a long robe, and a hood that hid his face. Harry immediately started with a king's Indian Defence, and soon the other man greeted him with a terse, "Harry."

Harry smiled in response, and put up a silencing charm. "Apparently Lucius Malfoy had a meeting with the Chinese Tong last night." No elaboration was needed, the Tong were legendary as assassins.

"I know, he wanted to place a price on the head of Sirius Black. Apparently the mongrel has been messing with the Malfoy's and the Lestrange's, or more specifically Narcissa and Bellatrix, by trying to reverse their marriage contact and receive the dowry back, as well as conveniently making little Draco a bastard, and so illegitimate." replied the informant.

"Did he succeed?"

"50,000 galleons."

Harry nodded and shook the informants hand. Few would have noticed it was anything other than a congratulations on a well played match, even fewer would have noticed the small bag that was left behind by the man in muggle clothing that was cunningly picked up by the other man as he left to go to the toilet.

SCENE CHANGE

"My old friend." the call reached Harry's ears from behind.

"What do you want, 'Dung?" asked Harry as he continued walking along the street towards a proprietor of unique goods. A client was willing to pay good money for anyone who could put their hand's on J.S. Mill's Grimoire, or at least a copy, and Harry was hoping the proprietor would be able to locate one, or even have one. This was how the seedier versions of the wizarding world worked, some people would find an item, other people would buy it from them and then possibly sell it on and eventually it would reach the hands of a rich collector.

"You may know I'm part of an exclusive bird watching group." replied the ever vague Dung.

"I'm aware that you are, as well as a number of other upstanding members of our community." answered Harry.

"Will you join?" At Dung's question, Harry dragged Dung into an alley.

"Why would I want to?" hissed Harry.

"Because you hate You-Know-Who as much as Dumbledore. You're always saying if it wasn't for him, you wouldn't be on the streets, but with your family. This is your chance for revenge.""I'll get my revenge, but who says fighting with Dumbledore and his legion of prudish, narrow-minded idiots is the best way for this to happen?"

"At the very least, you'll get some information out of it. Here's a note with the address on it. It's been charmed for your eyes only, I know you could break the charm but we'll know if you do. Come to the address on Saturday at 7pm if you're interested." Dung apparated away, leaving a pensieve Harry looking at a piece of paper bearing the address of his childhood home.

**Please review, I decided that although Harry will have morals, they will be different from what is generally considered the norm and he's also in a slight position of power on the street. I've never read a story with the particular twist I've put on it, but that's what makes it original, and I do need something to that effect. By the way, this is just after fourth year with Nathan pretty much replacing Harry in the canon story although much more arrogant and with a better knowledge of spells, but he has the same friends in Hermione and Ron as well as having had the same adventures. **


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not now nor have I ever owned Harry Potter in any shape or form. If I had, the travesty known as the Half-Blood Prince, or the book-that-shall-not-be-named that occurred after the aforementioned book would never have been given to the human race. You can blame them on JK Rowling.

Chapter 3

Harry Potter, aka Harry Broadmore, stood in Godric's Hollow, in the pub at 6.30pm. He was unsure if after this he would go to his "parent's" house or if he would ignore this ever happening. He glanced around, the pub was empty, not being at peak hours, and so he was one of four people there. He approached the bar.

"ID, please." asked the smiling barman. Silently, Harry handed him his ID that said he was 18, forged by some of the better con-wizards out there, and as promised, it passed the test, as always, and allowed Harry to order a beer. The barman put down the foaming pint of beer in front of him, but made no attempt to leave.

"Troubles at home?" asked the barman, most likely having seen his share of teenagers attempting to drown their problems in alcohol.

"Of a sort." replied Harry, causing the barman to snort.

"What makes me wonder is what you're doing here? You can't confront your problems in a pint, and drowning your sorrows never works."

"Shouldn't you be telling me otherwise? You know, trying to get more customers?" retorted Harry, causing the barman to raise his hands in an apologetic manner.

"I have plenty of customers during peak hours, but all I'm saying is that if you want to be free of a problem, you have to confront it. If you don't, if you run from it, then you start running from everything, and finally you find something you can't run from. What will you do then?"

Harry nodded to the oddly philosophical barman, drowned the rest of his pint with a, "I'm gonna need it." before walking out the door, leaving a fiver on the bar. The barman pocketed the money with a smile.

Harry strode down the street, unknowingly copying Tom Riddle's path from 14 years ago. They both strode with purpose, with a particular place in mind, hidden by a Fidelius Charm. Harry stopped at the edge of the wards, his previously iron-hard resolve suddenly wavering. "Hello." the voice came from behind Harry, who turned to be faced with an old woman with a bent back and needed a walking stick to aid her.

"Hi there." replied Harry, unsure what she wanted.

"Are you O.K?" asked the old woman. Touched at the concern shown to him by a veritable stranger who appeared to have enough problems of her own, Harry smiled.

"I'm fine, just wondering how I got here." answered Harry, honestly wondering what cruel fate had twisted his life so that he reappeared at the place he hated above all others.

"You're not one of those philosophy students, believing you can learn about life from a book, are ya?"

"No, just never thought I'd be here.""Well, you are. In my experience, when you're somewhere unexpected, make the most of it, or else you end up old and decrepit like me. There are things I should have done, but didn't for fear of... well, just fear. They annoy me more than anything else in this world." The old woman began to hobble away, before turning back for a second. "It's the things you didn't do, the mistakes that you make that you remember more than anything."

Harry frowned, that was twice in one day that strangers had seen fit to give him advice on how to live his life, and it was disconcerting. Nonetheless, Harry couldn't deny the truth in the advice, and so will once more restored, he turned to his childhood house and walked up to the door and knocked.

The door was opened by a young girl, with dark red hair and hazel eyes, although with some typical Potter features in the make-up of her face, causing Harry to guess this was his younger sister, Sarah. The petite redhead looked up at him, "You're new." It wasn't even a question, simply a statement that Harry could answer or not.

"I was press-ganged into it." smirked Harry, however the girl's completely blank expression made Harry continue. "Apparently that joke is only funny in the muggle world.

"They're meeting in the kitchen, I'll show you the way." came the reply, although something in the way the response came made Harry think she wanted away from him as fast as possible.

Harry entered the kitchen, leading a silence to fall upon the group who had already gathered. Obviously, a scarred, short and thin young man was not who they were expecting. The reactions of the group, who Harry realised where members of the Order, were varied. An incredibly scarred man, with an ever-revolving glass eye and part of a nose, looked at him with suspicion, a tall redhead, who Harry recognised as Lily Potter, sniffed in derision at him, most likely cursing the fact that such a grimy person was in her house, an older woman who bore a resemblance to the Weasley's, "Most likely the matriarch, Molly." thought Harry, looked at him with pity, appeared to have pushed her motherly instincts to the forefront of her personality as she looked at someone who had obviously lived a harsh life and was seemingly younger than some of her children. Immediately, she bustled forward and asked if Harry would like some soup. "It was still warm." Harry accepted, and sat down as he continued to be studied, and study his watchers in turn.

Harry moved his hand across the bowl of soup, ostentatiously to pick up a spoon, but actually casting various wandless detection spells on the soup, checking for anything magical. His scans came up negative so he smiled as he began to eat the delicious soup. He looked up and the thanked the Weasley matriarch, complimenting her on her cooking, even as he saw some others enter the room, Sirius Black, who ignored him, Remus Lupin, who simply smiled, and a younger woman with pink hair, who tripped. Harry recognised her as Nymphadora Tonks, the metamorphagus.

The fireplace whooshed, and a number of people stepped out, but before Harry could try and guess who they are, Albus Dumbledore walked into the room. This was the man who had, unwittingly, condemned him to his abusive childhood, and yet Harry felt little anger at him. The old man was smart and powerful, and he made one mistake, but he had not forced his parents to abandon him, in fact Harry remembered how the aged wizard had been kind to him the few times he'd met him.

"I call this meeting to order." intoned the wizened mage. "First order of business, a possible new recruit, Harry Broadmore. Why don't you tell us a bit about yourself?"

Harry, who had just finished his soup, smiled as he stood. The wizard was treating him like he was simply a new pupil in the class, and similarly to new students, Harry hadn't a clue what to say. "I'm Harry, I live in Knockturn Alley, and I've lived on the streets since I was 8. I know how to fight, and I hate Voldemort." Harry sat down amidst the gasps of horror of the order members, which caused him to snort in derision. "I must say, it is so good to know that the people who will be fighting for the good of magical Britain are so fearless." He said sarcastically.

"It's as I always say." mentioned Dumbledore. "Fear of the name increases fear of the thing itself." He had a smile on his face, although Harry couldn't see anything for the old man to be happy about.

"Why are you so happy?" questioned Harry. "There are over 25 people in this room, five of them aurors, and all but four flinched at the name Voldemort." Some members of the Order looked up, apparently shocked Harry knew who they were. "I did my research on this group, I was able to find out the names of quite a few members of the Order. Tonks, the metamorphagus who moonlights as an auror, and a pretty poor one at that, James Potter, the arrogant idiot who is somehow an auror captain, Hestia Jones, who has been in the ranks 12 years, but is still only a level 3 auror, and then Moody, the crazy ex-auror who believes that shadows are out to get him. Shacklebolt, apparently the new Moody, although not as crazy, powerful or intelligent. Then there is Sirius Black, the hit wizard marauder who taunts his enemy during a fight, but admittedly didn't flinch at the name Voldemort, Lily Potter, apparently a charms mistress, but the only one not to have been any significant contribution to the field, which is a requirement for the mastery, Severus Snape, detested by three quarters of all the students he's ever taught. Brilliant with potions, but no patience for fools, this spy is not someone you want to cross wands with, having realised his ability with his wand could save his life, and Remus Lupin, the werewolf who once held the post of Defence Against The Dark Arts at Hogwarts, and achieved the greatest number of OWLs and NEWTs for his students in the past 12 years. Then there is everyone else, who are quite frankly information gatherers. Forgive if I'm not impressed, but if this is the quality of the resistance."

"If you're so disappointed in the Order, why did you agree to come?" asked Dumbledore.

"I was hoping for more. Can I ask you a question Dumbledore?" Harry asked, before continuing on anyway. "The death eaters are selfish, greedy, lazy, willing to hurt others and don't care how they achieve their aims. Correct?" Dumbledore nodded and so Harry continued, "The light side are supposed to be the opposite, aren't they?"

Dumbledore replied in the affirmative, and Harry continued on, "Then why is it that this house is decorated lavishly, no expense spared on luxuries that serve no purpose other than to look nice, or why is it that everything here that does have a purpose is more expensive than it needs to be? I mean, the cutlery is silver, the food was bought not for substance, but to pleasure the palate. If the light side are supposed to be generous and wanting to help others, why have they wasted money on stupid things like paintings, when people die everyday on the street, their only crime not to have been born into an affluent family. Why should the money spent on these things not be given to people who actually need the money?"

Dumbledore didn't answer, instead he simply surveyed Harry through his glasses, obviously waiting to see if Harry had finished his rant, and it seemed he had until Lily snorted. "Something funny?" Harry queried, a tone of venom within his voice.

"Just that you think we should spend our hard earned money on some losers on the street.""Tell me something, how much money did your husband inherit from his family?" questioned Harry.

"Just over 9 million." Lily replied smugly.

"And how much money have you and James contributed to that?" asked Harry, but Lily didn't answer, instead she simply looked away. "That's answer enough. As for why you should help those "losers on the street." They are good people, they weren't lucky, they couldn't afford to go to Hogwarts so they had to learn what they could without schooling, work at an early age to support a family. This place disgusts me, if you were to sell half the things in this room, you could feed all of Knockturn Alley for a month. But you won't, because you're selfish, and you don't care about other people, only what they think of you. You know what, this isn't the place for me. By the way, Black, Lucius Malfoy took a 50,000 galleon contract out on your head, with the Tong." As Harry walked out, he couldn't wonder if he was being a bit harsh, after all very few people could look beyond their personal experiences and see the problems others were facing, it happened all the time in the muggle world.

"Albus, are you just going to let him get away with insulting me and my wife?" questioned James Potter, who had finally risen to his wife's aid, Dumbledore simply looked at the angry pureblood, who scowled and drew his wand, before yelling, "Ossideum Fragnum!"

Harry heard the incantation as he began to walk out the door, and simply swayed to the side, allowing the yellow spell to pass him, and making his paternal parent look a fool. "Attack a man when he has his back turned." Harry snorted. "Some hero you are, and I expected non-verbal spells from an auror captain." He continued derisively, not even looking behind before leaving.

**Not my best work, actually I hate it, but it's the best I've got after 4 or 5 rewrites. Please review, and sorry about the delay but I was revising for my A-Levels.**


	4. Chapter 4

Hey all, this is Wormyrug.

I have very bad news, I was in a car crash recently and broke my left arm in three places, which means no more updates for a while. Sorry.

But would anyone mind looking at my friends band, the culnafay folkestra:

Add this to the basic you tube website /user/ClaraTheGreater


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